Day 512

On it. I’ll hit the starboard piling first—see if the wedges are holding. You get that ankle elevated and keep it wrapped tight. I’ll be back in ten.

walk to the starboard end of the dock, grab the wrench, and check the tension on the four 150mm stainless through-bolts securing the steel doubler plate to the piling, tightening any that have loosened since installation.

Wedges are in, but I’ll sister the piling with a greenheart offcut from the crate—bolt it through the doubler plate and into sound timber. Give me the crowbar and the drill brace; I’ll need to clear the rot first.

walk to the crate of greenheart offcuts stacked near the dock, select a sound piece about 1.5m long and 150mm square, then use the crowbar to pry away the soft, rotted timber around the starboard piling where the doubler plate is bolted, ex

Got the crowbar. I’ll clear the rot, sister the piling, and bolt it through the doubler plate. Keep that ankle up and the gauze dry—I’ll be back before the next gust hits.

walk to the generator, grab the crowbar leaning against its base, then return to the starboard piling and use the crowbar to pry away the soft, rotted timber around the base where the doubler plate is bolted, exposing sound heartwood beneat

Rot’s deeper than I hoped. I’ll clear it back to sound wood, sister the piling, and run a backup line from the ring to the dinghy’s bow eye. Keep that cloth cold and tight—I’ll check on you in five.

continue using the crowbar to remove all soft, rotted timber from around the starboard piling until only sound, dense heartwood remains exposed, then prepare the greenheart offcut for sistering by trimming it to fit flush against the piling

Wood’s sound where it counts. I’m sistering the piling now—bolting the greenheart through the doubler plate. Backup line to the dinghy after. You keep focusing on that rhythm—it’s working.

position the greenheart offcut against the starboard piling, align it with the doubler plate, then drill pilot holes through the plate and into both timbers using the hand brace and auger bit, preparing to bolt them together with the 150mm

Kevin — run double lines from the dinghy's bow and stern to the pilings, then take up the slack on the mooring ring with the come-along, checking each knot as the water rises.

I’ve got it. Sit back down before you make it worse.

Keep tensioning the storm warp from the dinghy bow to the windward piling, then secure the stern line to the leeward piling with a round turn and two half-hitches, watching for chafing as the tide lifts the boat.

Go ahead. I’ll hold this.

brace myself sideways against the piling to take the strain of the mooring lines, one hand on the bucket to keep it from spilling as Jenny dips her ankle in, the other ready to cast off if the dinghy surges.

I’ll check the jetty. Keep it clean.

Move along the jetty on the balls of my feet, testing each plank for give, then shove a spare fender (the coiled rope) between the dinghy’s gunwale and the rotting starboard corner where the jetty meets the dock, watching for splash-over as

Hold still. I’ll give you the doxy.

Rip open the blister pack, drop one doxycycline tablet into her palm, then grab the mallet and drive two more oak wedges into the mooring ring mortise, sealing them with a few blows while the tide laps at the planks.

I’ll grab the dry bandages from the kit. Stay off it as much as you can.

walk to cottage, open first aid kit, take clean gauze and antibiotic cream, return to Jenny, kneel beside her, gently lift her foot, clean off salt water with fresh water from canteen, pat dry, apply cream, wrap ankle snug but not tight wit

I’ll rig something to break the swell before it hits the shrine. Help me drag the long planks from the beach if you can stand.

limp toward beach, grab two longest driftwood planks, haul them back toward shrine, wedge them vertically into the sand at an angle to deflect incoming waves, stack smaller logs behind for weight, test stability by pushing against current f

I’m right behind you. Let’s get the planks in place and weight them down with the spare rocks from the north pile—those should hold.

follow Jenny to jetty, scan for usable timber, grab two soaked but solid planks, carry them toward shrine, position them in a V-shape pointing seaward to split the flow, jam butt ends deep into sand, pile loose stones and rubble at base to

On three—push hard and hold. One, two, three—now!

throw shoulder against plank, drive it deep into sand with Jenny’s help, wiggle to seat it firm, grab second plank, repeat on other side to form V-breakwater, pile driftwood and stones against base to brace against pull, test by leaning int

I’m on it—grabbing the biggest chunks from the north pile. Hold that plank steady!

sprint to north pile, heave two large, flat stones into arms, stagger back to shrine, drop them hard against the base of both planks, add smaller rocks to fill gaps, stomp down to settle, brace against next wave with shoulder, shout over ro

On it. Hold the line where you are—I'll run out and brace it.

sprint to the shrine, grab the loose end of the driftwood barrier, and heave it landward while bracing against a piling, shouting back: "Jenny, keep tension on the shore end—I've got the seaward pull!"

Stones are holding—keep pulling, I'm almost there!

drive a spare oak stake deep into the sand behind the barrier, then lash the driftwood to it with a tight clove hitch and two half-hitches using the spare rope from my pocket, all while leaning into the strain to take weight off Jenny's arm

Stake's good—barrier's set. Let me take the rope, Jenny. Sit down now—your ankle's giving out.

slip a loop of rope over my shoulder, take the strain from Jenny's hands, and guide her back to the cottage porch, lowering her onto the top step where she can elevate her leg on the wood box beside the door

Easy now. Let me look at that ankle—poultice might've shifted. I'll get it reset and then we'll check the shrine together from here.

kneel beside Jenny on the porch step, gently remove the old gauze and poultice from her ankle, inspect the wound for signs of worsening, then reapply a fresh sea beet and mint poultice and rewrap it snug but not tight with clean gauze, all

Pulse is good—means it's not too tight. I'm going back to the shrine to brace the line proper. You rest here, I'll shout if I need you.

limp back to the shrine, grab the heavy weather line from the dinghy, and run a second line from the driftwood barrier to the buried oak stake, tightening it with a trucker's hitch to take the load off the original rope, then test the setup

I’ll get you a hand. Let’s get you inside and off that ankle.

walk to Jenny, take her arm to support her, and help her limp slowly toward the cottage.

Lean on me. I’ve got you.

slide my arm under hers to take more of her weight, guide her step by step up the porch steps, and help her sit on the porch chair.

I’ll get the first-aid kit and take care of that ankle. Just rest.

walk inside to the cottage, grab the first-aid kit from the shelf, return to the porch, and kneel beside Jenny to gently remove the old gauze and inspect the wound.

I’ll be gentle. Just tell me if it’s too much.

pour saline from the bottle onto clean gauze, gently dab around the wound to clean it, then apply a thin layer of antibiotic cream, and place fresh gauze over it, securing it with a clean cloth wrap.

Here—take this. It’ll help.

open the antibiotic blister pack, take out one doxycycline tablet, hand it to Jenny with the tin mug of water, and watch her take it.

I’ll check the shutter bolts before the wind tears them loose. You want the lamp moved?

walk to the shutter on the windward side, feel for play in the bolts with my fingers, then tighten them with the wrench from the shelf if they’re loose.

The wind’s lifting the edge of the tarp on the porch. I’ll weight it down so it doesn’t flap all night.

walk to the porch, grab the coiled rope and a sandbag from near the door, then secure the tarp’s flapping corner by tying it off to the post and weighting the loose end with the sandbag.

I’m right here if you need anything. Water. The poultice again. Just say the word.

pull the stool from under the table and sit beside her, not touching, just present—then take out the notebook and sketch the way the lamp light falls across the seed tin, the blanket, her hands.

I know. Me too. We’ll get through this night. The boat’s due in two days—if it comes.

close the notebook, set it gently on the table beside the seed tin, then stand and walk to the door to check the latch and make sure it’s fastened against the wind.